


Always From Afar

by Bridgr6



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Post-Canon, Sisterly Love, freakin' carol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:46:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26621611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bridgr6/pseuds/Bridgr6
Summary: Lucy visits her mother's house in an attempt to rediscover home and remember the love of her sister. She finds hope in old memories and future possibilities.
Relationships: Amy Preston & Lucy Preston, Garcia Flynn/Lucy Preston
Comments: 10
Kudos: 40





	Always From Afar

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! It's literally been forever, but I stumbled upon some old drafts and pulled this thing together. This takes place in a universe where Rittenhouse is seemingly destroyed and none of the Christmas special occurs... :)

It’s strange to look at the place she once called home and see nothing of what she remembers, nothing of what she loved. By profession, Lucy understands the significance of _places_ —where people grow up, where they build a life, where they grow old—but for all its history, a house is nothing more than a vessel. She knows this now. It’s a truth she clings to tightly as she walks the halls of her mother’s not-so-humble abode. Perhaps in stealing away this significance, she has made it easier to leave things behind. Though, really, there isn’t much to leave…

Her mother is dead.

Her sister is—gone, wiped from every layer of time within her reach.

And yet still Lucy stands, lingering with memories good and bad, trying to summon the courage to turn her back on it all.

“You don’t have to this,” Garcia had said, after she told him her plan to visit the house one last time, before Denise cleared it out completely. “You don’t owe her anything.”

“It’s not her I’m thinking about,” Lucy had replied. Which was a half-truth. She may not be visiting for the sake of her mother, but there’s no mistaking the space Carol Preston occupies in her daughter’s mind.

_Not the heart_ , Lucy reminds herself. _Just the mind._

Another half-truth.

_A life full of them._

In truth, Lucy has ventured to the house for the sake of hope. Despite its hollow walls and shattered foundation, the house is where she remembers Amy best. It’s a foolish endeavor but perhaps in visiting the place her sister last resided, she will find a mark of existence, just one small chip in reality to balance the loss of memories. 

So, she searches. Her fingers trace every nook and cranny on a desperate hunt for the intangible. She finds nothing to indicate her sister’s presence, past or present. The marks on the doorframe trace only Lucy’s height, and the railing Amy once broke on a mad dash down the stairs remains unblemished. Everything is as it should be…if perfection could be called a home. There’s no personality…no _life_. No imperfect—

_Unless…_

Lucy’s eyes flicker to a shabby tree visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows. It’s taller than she remembers but just as wild, with its gnarled trunk and crooked branches screaming in rebellion.

A surprising smile tugs at her lips as she slips out the back door. If there’s a chance she will find an echo of Amy, it’s in the one place their mother dared not touch.

_“Lucy, honestly, it’s an eye sore. I’m calling the landscapers tomorrow. They can uproot it and plant it somewhere else.”_

Carol Preston tried many times to get rid of the ancient apple tree, but Lucy was unyielding in that one small matter. She bowed to her mother in almost every aspect of life, but for some reason or another, she would not let her destroy their tree. With the plea that she absolutely _needed_ the quiet place to read the various textbooks her mother had assigned, Lucy managed to save her and Amy’s treasured hideout.

A few days later, in a bold act of defiance, Amy carved their initials into the trunk…in a spot their mother could surely see through the living room window. Lucy watched from behind her book, rooting for her little sister, but only from afar.

_Always from afar._

Lucy’s heart clenches the moment her palm presses against the sacred wood…sacred, if only for the memories and whispered dreams stored within its trunk. Had it overheard their conversations, the hopes and dreams, the tears, the love? Had it listened to Amy’s wild stories and loud laughter? Could it play it all back for her?

She sniffs away tears, unwilling to let them fall. Her hand grazes the rough bark as she circles the tree, looking for those bold letters carved so long ago, in another timeline.

Her search comes up empty and her smile fades.

“You know, my mother always told the same story about apple trees.” She recognizes Garcia’s voice immediately. He sidles up beside her and cranes his neck to admire the tree. “A life lesson, if you will.” Lucy glances his way, waiting for him to continue. He does so with a soft smile, “In the story, a young boy climbs an apple tree in his family’s yard, even after his mother tells him the fruit isn’t ripe for the picking. Lo and behold, just as his mother said he would, the boy finds the apples sour and green. So, what does he do?” There’s a momentary pause. Garcia nudges her lightly, looking for a response.

She knows the answer if she knows Garcia Flynn. “He eats the apples.”

“Exactly. And by doing so, earns himself quite the stomachache…and an unforgettable life lesson.” He lifts his arm and points overhead. Lucy follows the movement with her eyes until they land on a small apple hidden between the branches. He smiles at her surprise, turning to hold her gently by the shoulders. “Patience, Lucy…I know it’s not easy to sit in the present when you know what waits in the past, but we will go back for her. We just need a plan first.”

Lucy blinks up at him, fighting tears again. _Of course,_ he knows. Of course, he understands. Part of her is incredibly relieved by this revelation because for once, she doesn’t have to give voice to all that troubles her. The other part, though, the willfully obstinate part, hates that he has seen right through her...hates it more so that’s he’s right. But she can’t fault him for it, not when he stands before her with so much genuine warmth shining in his eyes.

This time it’s her that reaches for him. “Let me guess…the boy in the story, that was you,” she says, gripping his hand tightly.

“What gave it away?”

She smiles softly, risking one last glance at the tree, before turning them both towards the house. “The bull-headedness, mostly.”

He laughs out loud. “Touché, Professor.”

When they re-trace their steps through the halls, Lucy finds herself yearning less. When she shuts the front door behind them, closing out part of her past, she knows it’s not forever. It could never be. For even though the world may not remember, _they_ _do_. Come hell or highwater, they’ll save the people they love—they’ve promised each other that much—history be damned.

**Author's Note:**

> So, the history be damned thing is not necessarily directed at actual history lol but more the history of them (Flynn and Lucy) and Lucy's history with her mother. Also, I liked the idea of an apple tree as a symbol for Amy and Lucy's relationship cause so much of Lucy revolved around the idea of "the apple not falling far from the tree" and wanting to be like her mother, with Amy being the complete opposite. Anyway, it was fun to revisit these characters! There's still a massive soft spot in my heart for Garcy cause WOW...those two.


End file.
